


woman turns back and faces time

by whateverliesunsaid



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 12:10:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20389504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whateverliesunsaid/pseuds/whateverliesunsaid
Summary: What happens after the big bang and before the wedding.





	woman turns back and faces time

**Author's Note:**

> There is a way the body weds memory—   
a marriage like that of a planet to light. My time before you   
was light wed to light, sheer and ardent, holy   
annihilation.  
— Alessandra Lynch

To be alive is always a struggle; this particular moment, however, wasn’t.

Which kinda gave it away.

Except it didn’t. 

Amelia found herself sat in the pristine white room, light bouncing off the walls into her eyes, almost blinding her for a moment. Her legs were folded beneath her body, her mind blank — a clean slate. It instantly reminded her of that one time she decided to take up meditation as a hobby and sat at her bedroom floor, alone and in silence for hours, trying to shut her mind who kept running laps around her — circles that fell down beneath the earth or up and away, off into the stars where Amy couldn’t follow. How fitting it was that her whole life would be exactly that: her most beloved gone to where she couldn’t follow. She almost laughed at that thought until she realized:  _ she didn’t know that for sure.  _

At least not yet. 

Shouldn’t, that is. 

She did, though she did not know why. Like how sometimes you know your best friend is coming to your house, even though they didn’t call, it’s 3 am and its pissing rain. You know deep in your guts that they’re on their way. Amelia grew used to knowing those things, it became a most banal fact of her life. She could always see the view before she turned the road to meet it. That’s just how life was for her. An exercise in imagination. Foresight and dejavu swirling together.

A sense of peace overcame her and she felt her center become solid, somehow. Cold and hot and  _ alive _ . Desperately struggling to break through. Her heart beating against her ribcage, molten lava turns to stone. A reminder of how it feels to be alive.

She looked at her own hand, her wedding band glowing golden and thin, seeking her attention in a quiet, unassuming way. She was getting married tomorrow. In the church at the town’s square. She and Rory would tie the knot, sign the papers, kiss and walk the isle. It was already decked out, completely decorated in shades of blue, white and silver. The flowers would come in the morning — Rory’s best man was in charge of that. She remembered things matter of factly, manufacturing them around her (or in her mind, though she couldn’t spot the difference from this to that). She could see the church walls rising around her, the pews, the altar, the isle, the door. The light coming down colorful from the tinted glass to meet her in the middle. She could see Rory, fussing with the wedding planner over details, overexcited at his wedding.  _ Where am i? _

At home, _ of course _ . Eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Her wedding dress waiting for her at her closet’s door. White, pure and inviting. Any girl would be lucky to wear that, to marry a man who loved her so much. Any girl would be fast asleep, too, getting her beauty sleep for her greatest day ever, excited rather than filled with dread. Instead, she felt anxiety gnawing at her insides, waiting until her body eventually collapsed of exhaustion. Surely, this was a secret all brides kept to themselves, right? The cold feet came sooner or later. Her’s came sooner, Rory’s never did. Not that she ever started  _ this  _ conversation.

Her maid of honor wasn’t coming to the wedding so she has to make sure they’ll keep her spot untouched. Mels had to be felt, even if it was in her fault. It wouldn’t feel right if she weren’t. She could already see from where she sat, the venue where she, Rory and their closest stood side by side, facing the other circles of people, friends who they sat almost strategically and sometimes with a little dash of wicked humour or cupid-like curiosity. She could see them all there, the roaring laughter at the groomsman’s speech. Amy’s maid of honor’s lack thereof being rendered unnoticeable by the hilarity of Rory’s friend.

She was happy, of course. Sat beside the man she chose, her hand laid beside his with its palm up as she stared at it almost as if she wanted to read between the lines through sheer power of will. She wanted to know what came after all of this. Happiness, heartbreak? Whatever would be of her, she had to know it. A deep sat desire rested at the bottom of her stomach, resting against the bone, chilling her from within. The desire to know now, as not to be hurt later.

She watched herself, head turned sideways, how peculiar it is to be inside a memory of something not yet lived.  _ This is tomorrow _ . She saw herself snap away from her own reverie, bathed in light, fingers reaching for the most important book of all.  _ River’s diary. _ Oh, yes, where is she? Going away. Mels doesn’t do weddings, she should know that by now. How silly of her to expect her own maid of honor to not even leave a present. Even if she didn’t really figure it out right away. A diary. Beaten up, blue and somehow…. Brand new. All yellowed pages still clear. That couldn’t be right, though. This diary set the future in stone, so how come it had none of it?

Except it’s just a diary.

And she’s confused, River is not her best friend. In fact, she doesn’t know that person at all. How could she?

What sort of stranger leaves a wedding gift?

What is— In a snap, the image closes itself around her and Amelia feels the white of the walls reflecting into her eyes again.  _ What am i waiting for? _ She wants to get up, to walk around, to find the D— Nurse. Rory is a nurse, not a doctor.  _ Rory isn’t coming _ ( _ how did i get here?) _

The light of the walls become stronger by the moment, turning orange and blue, an explosion of warmth. Yes, she saw the explosion happen. _ Today, this happened today. _ The pandorica, a myth that came true and exploded. Flew into the sun and exploded and now there’s orange light everywhere. She’s walking back, away from the box where he’s hiding in plain sight.  _ Who? _

She hides behind the set of the exposition, holding Rory’s and River’s hands.  _ Who’s River?  _ No, it was only Rory. He was the only thing that made sense. Why did the box explode? Because it was the only way. The universe, her memories would save the universe. A punch of light and heat reached them and she felt herself slip out of consciousness in Rory’s arms, his body melting beneath her. Molten plastic. Plastic soldier man. Plastic.

Things fell out of reality haphazardly. No logic, no sense, no intention behind it except that as well as all things come to be, they eventually will cease as well. It’s only life as it is. The entropy that will eventually end the universe came through after all. It ate at the borders, the seams of reality, dimensions becoming thinner and thinner until it finally took her’s. His pleading voice said:  _ Remember your family _ .

And so she did. She made an effort to remember their faces, their voices, the stories. Her mother told her off from eating fish fingers and custard at midnight, her father laughed. Brian and Rory walked with her to her first job interview. Her aunt came to her first and last ballet recital. Scotland’s highlands, before they left for england, a wisp of a memory, all snow and mountains, snow and trees, white, vast and blinding her.  _ My mum and dad are gone.  _ No, no, they’re at the house, waiting for me.  _ Tomorrow’s my wedding day _ . The crack on the wall took them away from me.  _ No, there’s nothing there now. _ It’s closed and gone and there’s no voice in your head anymore. 

_ [ Amelia Pond, you are free ] _

_ Where am i? _ You’re at your bedroom, of course. Your wedding dress is hanging from your closet’s door and you’re getting married in the morning. You couldn’t be any more excited about it. The stars are shining, all is well, your best friend is whispering his goodbye in your ears but you can’t respond. The raggedy man leaves before your lids flutter open; the big morning is here, at last.

_ [ what’s to remember when history ceased and came to be again overnight? ] _

It flies through in a daze and before you know it, your dad is up for his speech at your reception. The diary is glistening where your tear fell. Full of history in it’s blank pages, not hers at all (Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue). She stands up, urgent and rude but it’s necessary.  _ They’ll see. _

They have to  _ (right?) _

Haven’t any of them heard the story? The good old man in the sky, saving children from the monsters on the other side of the wall? She feels all the parts of her that always felt open and exposed shut closed, the puzzle coming together at last.  _ How dare she forget her best friend? _

“Raggedy man, i found you. I found you in the words like you said i would. So clever, so, so clever. I brought the others back i can bring you home too!”

_ I’ve lived a whole life wondering if you were real, if forgetting you wasn’t the best solution after all. You must’ve wondered if hoping to come back would do you any good, too.  _ The wheezing sound of his approach jolts her out of her spot and she runs to the blue box just when he pops out of it — just as she imagined he would.

“Did i surprise you this time?” She asks and the whole universe hangs off the tip of her tongue, waiting for his reply. 

“Er, yeah. Completely astonished. Never expected that. How lucky I happened to be wearing this old thing.” he responds with his habitual flair and it almost makes her glow, this newfound glee of remembrance. He announces: “Hello, everyone. I'm Amy's imaginary friend.  _ But I came anyway _ .” The sweltering joy overcomes everything, a delicious awareness of living drowning out all otherness, leaving only presence and the constance of time behind.

Warmth took over until there was nothing left but the awareness of how uncomfortable her shoes were. And how much worse it would get once they started dancing. 

Which kinda gave it away.

Except it doesn’t


End file.
